Cerulean
by thatpersonyoursisterknows
Summary: The Wizarding World is not a very safe place for a Malfoy. What is a first-year Scorpius to do? He releases all of his emotions into art. Well, he WOULD if that damn Gloria girl wouldn't make him break his pencils. Next Gen. Canon compliant. Full-length.
1. Yellow

**It's my first full-length Harry Potter fic. Brace yourselves. **

Scorpius Malfoy was not typically known to be nervous.

Throughout his life, he possessed an unnatural confidence that only a _Malfoy_ (cue the sneers) could muster. His father supported his ideas, encouraged any of his endeavors, and always loved his son's creativity. (Draco's personal favorite musing of his son's, he had to admit, was a design for an aeroplane that was made entirely out of diamonds. While not exactly structurally sound, he had to admit that the boy had taste.)

Yes, creativity. Quite shocking for a young man who came from a family of unimaginative blood-purists, but hey, he took after his mother. Ever since he could hold a crayon, Scorpius had been drawing and painting, and was quite good for an eleven year old. He was a dreamer, and aspired to one day share his art with the world (or in the very least, people who didn't live on his block.)

Therefore, the bundle of nerves in his stomach that seemed to be _twisting _and _flipping _over and over were not a common occurrence. The light gray pavement of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters suddenly seemed like the perfect place to curl up into a ball and die. Scorpius felt like the crowd was a dragon, and could easily swallow him up without effort.

He was shaken from his reverie by his mother placing a manicured hand on his shoulder, gently guiding him forward. He clutched the handle of his trunk tightly in one hand, his owl's cage in another, and strolled further into the crowd. The Malfoy family stopped about ten feet from the train, and the mass of people thinned to a point where a large group of redheads and brunettes came into view.

Scorpius immediately recognized the man with jet-black hair and glasses-who in the Wizarding World didn't know about Harry Potter? He quickly scanned the faces of the rest of the Potter-Weasley clan, his eyes resting for a moment on the girl with stunning red hair that looked his age. Glancing up to see his father deliver a quick nod in their general direction, the knots in his stomach eased a bit. Maybe the fact that these long-time rivals had developed respect for each other meant that Scorpius could manage to secure a few friends?

The answering glares delivered by a few sour adults and their children was enough to set Scorpius's nerves into hyper drive. He looked up again at his father, who seemed to notice the frantic look in his son's eyes. Draco knelt down to be eye-to-eye with him.

"I've told you many times about prejudice, haven't I?" The elder Malfoy's voice was subdued. "And you know that I was just like the people staring at us know: hateful of people and things that I never understood, and quick to judge. But you..." he seemed to be at a loss for words. "I've never known you to be like that. In fact, you can be quite the opposite. You see the beauty in things, Scorpius. You're capable of things at eleven that people take a lifetime to achieve."

Astoria Malfoy grinned at her husband before bending down to her son's level. "What your long-winded father _means_," she drawled, rolling her eyes before becoming somber. "is that people don't see this family in the best light, and you know the history behind that. But you, my darling," she cooed affectionately, "have the potential to change that. You can do anything, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

The pressure in Scorpius's gut ceased to exist, and his entire body suddenly felt lighter. "You know that you're the best parents in the world, right?" Astoria's dark brown eyes seemed to glimmer and her pursed lips stretched into a smile. Draco laughed before rising to his feet.

"You didn't think so when we told you you couldn't have a broom last week," his father accused, the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

Scorpius dismissed the comment with a jerk of his head. "I can't recall anything of the sort." His smile faltered a bit. "I'll miss you both terribly."

His moher suddenly enveloped him in a vice-like grip. "The house will be so lifeless without you. Promise to send us a few sketches with your letters?"

"Only if you allow me to breathe, Mother." She released him after a moment, tears clouding her vision. Strands of her mahogany-colored hair had fallen out of it's elegant twist, but she paid them no mind, instead busily straightening out his outfit (black trousers and a navy turtleneck) and hair. His father eased her hands away from his clothes before clapping a hand on his son's shoulder.

"We'll see you at Christmas."

Scorpius sighed as another half-full compartment of children turned him away. The first was full of seventh-years, the second held a rather, uh,_ passionate_ couple, and the third claimed they didn't allow blondes. He had cheekily replied with "Is blonde a euphemism for Malfoy?" before leaving the half-wits to wonder what a 'euphemism' was. He wanted to go find his cousin, Phoebe Nott, but she was a fifth year prefect who would probably be found patrolling the corridors. Instead of searching for her, he dashed into the first empty compartment he could find, shoving his trunk into a corner and carefully placing Malcom's cage on the seat beside him. Running a hand through his gelled white-blond hair, he longingly stared out the window at the mundane British countryside. He wondered why it was so difficult to make a few friends. He had witnessed plenty of giggling students sitting together on the train-why couldn't he manage that?

Being who he was, Scorpius really didn't have friends. He had preferred to be alone, always doodling away in his room. He had sectioned off portions of his house where he could draw-the third stool with the wobbly leg in the breakfast nook, the alcove in the big circular window over the main entrance-and there was where he would create beautiful pictures. He found himself slipping a notepad and pencil from his pocket, and began the outline of a cage. Caged-that was how he felt. He was trapped in a world that he couldn't change. No longer was he safe at home among his oil pastels; his confidence had shattered slightly because of it.

The door slid open.

"You have impeccable posture, you know. Don't let your dour expression ruin that whole 'loner' facade. Tone it down two notches into an impassive stare and you'll accomplish the look." Scorpius, startled by this stranger's sudden appearance, broke his pencil, tearing a hole into the paper. The intruder was a girl who looked like she had stepped out of a rock concert, complete with combat boots, plaid pants (Scorpius's grandmother would die if she saw them), and a loose, black shirt that pictured a yellow smiley face with x's for eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't usually go for conventional greetings. Hello, my name is Gloria, I'm the girl people tell their children to stay away from, and can I sit here?"

**Dear readers,**

**The review button is your sword. Do your worst. **

**...and could anyone find me a beta? I hate looking in the directory.**

**-t.p.y.s.k.  
**


	2. Red

**Yo. I'm back again. I hope this chapter is better written (and funnier!) than the last. Enjoy. **

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Scorpius' eyes widened at the sight of the girl in the doorway. Aside from her clothes, her hair flowed down to the middle of her back, a mousy brown that lightened to a dirty blonde at the ends. It fell in loose waves and was all one length, a typical trait of girls who were _not quite _teenagers yet. Her skin was a light beige, although it was many shades darker than his own. Gloria's eyes, however, were remarkable. They were an..._intense _blue that faintly reminded Scorpius of the undulating Atlantic Ocean on a sunny day.

Hm. He'd have to write that one down. Good poetry potential.

Suddenly he found his voice. Slightly less shocked, he managed to stammer out a 'Y-yes.'

She beamed at him, her face awash with affection at his sudden shyness. She quickly shut the door behind her and slid onto the seat opposite Scorpius, crossing her legs. She noticed his barn owl picking at his feathers and cocked her head to the side. "You have a charming owl."

Realizing that this was both an attempt to start conversation and a compliment, Scorpius relaxed. Besides being a little strange, she looked friendly enough. He liked the company of strange people, anyway. "Thanks. His name is Malcom. I got him last week at Eyelops-it's a funny story, actually. I walked into the store and two seconds later, he perched himself right on my shoulder."

Gloria giggled, then moved closer towards Malcom's cage. "It's a pity that owl's have to be kept in cages. I feel like a vile person every time I lock up Harpier."

Scorpius then noticed the absence of her luggage. "Where is your owl? And your other things?"

"In the trans-dimensional portal I keep in my pocket."

"No, really."

"_Really_." She countered. "Storing things in a wormhole saves tons of _space. _Geddit?"

"A worm-_what?"_

She sighed morosely. "Another one of my fabulously corny jokes, _ruined _by an all-magical upbringing. Scorpius frowned. "You'll find that you've been sheltered just a bit when you start talking to muggleborns like myself."

_Muggleborn? _Scorpius's entire body felt lighter than it had since he had woken up this morning. He would prove _everyone _wrong about the Malfoy's-and he had gotten a head start on his sudden plan by making a muggleborn friend.

Gloria didn't seem to notice Scorpius's change in mood (or his ludicrously gigantic grin either; he was never able to control his facial expressions quite like his dad). "Although I can't really say much, considering everything I know about magic is from textbooks. What a horrible way to learn. So, your entire family consists of wizards?"

The helium-balloon-like-lighter-than-air fuzzy warm friendshippy feeling suddenly disappeared, leaving Scorpius's mood to shatter. His family was a touchy subject (the whole 'mass-murdering Death Eater' thing wasn't exactly a 'show-and-tell' kind of story), and he carefully chose his words. "Every generation."

"I haven't even asked for your name, have I? Sorry, I get side-tracked quite easily." Gloria grinned.

"Scorpius Malfoy."

"_Scorpius_." His name seemed like a fascinating concept. "Very wizardesque, I suppose. I like it. It's different-especially when you grow up around a bunch of John's your entire life!"

He smiled, grateful for the change in topic.

Gloria opened her mouth again to go off on another tangent when the compartment door slid open for a second time. The girl with bright red hair Scorpius remembered seeing on the platform stuck her head in. "Have either of you seen a boy with messy dark brown hair and green eyes walk by? He's my cousin, and I haven't-_oh."_ She had noticed Scorpius, her cheeks flushing a deeper scarlet than her hair. "Uh, n-nevermind, sorry to bother you."

Gloria, who had been silently watching the girl with questioning eyes, sprang to her feet and grasped her wrist as she turned to leave. "Hey, why don't you sit for a while? I'm Gloria Quinn, this is Scorpius Malfoy. You're a first year as well?"

"Uh, yeah, Rose Weasley." Rose's palms began to sweat just from being in the same _compartment _as Scorpius. Now that was absolutely _ridiculous. _He could understand the public's wariness of the Malfoy **family** as a whole, but _honestly_, he was _eleven. _It wasn't like he had an army of enchanted fruit bats at his disposal to do away with her, now did he? "Erm, ah, I really should be going..."

"No! Stay for a while, I _insist." _Gloria's once-earnest smile had transformed into something of a forced, every-tooth bared smile. Her grip had tightened on Rose's wrist just a bit, and she was trying to force her further into the compartment. Rose violently jerked her hand away. Her chest heaved as her lower jaw jutted out and her eyebrows scrunched together.

The resulting effect made her look something akin to an angry squirrel demon.

Scorpius tried not to laugh (and miserably failed) as Rose swiftly turned on her heels and ran out of the compartment without another word.

Gloria stared after Rose's rapidly retreating form, her blue eyes wide and unblinking. After a series of unintelligible squeaks, she managed to scream out "YEAH, YOU RUN, YOU LOUSY IDIOT!" catching the attention of the students in the surrounding compartments. She huffed, stamping her foot a little, and fell into the seat besides Scorpius, muttering to herself. He caught the words 'prejudiced bint' and 'vapid troll' about six times each.

Women.

"Er, Gloria?" Scorpius asked timidly, slightly afraid of the malice that his new friend currently possessed. "I'm upset about it too, but don't you think calling her an idiot was going a _bit_ too far?"

Ignoring him, Gloria wondered aloud, "Are there any spells that make people lose control of their bowels?" She slid her wand from her pocket. "I've been dying to try this thing out."

"What exactly made you so angry, anyway?" He pressed.

"I dunno. I really hate when that sort of thing happens. Prejudice. When my mom moved to England, she always told me stories about how other people would make fun of her accent-she was from Spain, you see-and it sort of made her into a hermit. I mean, it didn't _always _happen, but when someone started judging her before they even got to know her, it hurt her feelings. Her English is much better now, anyway, but it still hurt. People are always cruel to what they don't understand." Gloria sighed wistfully before glancing at Scorpius. "I guess I felt the need to defend your honor."

Scorpius snorted. "My honor? Glory-we're _eleven." _The nickname came to him before he could contain it, and he liked the way it sounded. Glory. She was definitely a winner in her own way.

Gloria's hand covered her mouth in surprise. "Aw! Did you just give me a nickname?"

"I...I guess so. What do you think?"

"I think it's fantastic, actually. Glory. That'll be my stage name." She flicked her hands out in a gesture meant to symbolize fame. "Well, you know, once I learn how to play an instrument. Anyway, you need a nickname too. Scorpy?"

"No."

"Score?"

"...eh. That one sounds weird."

"Captain Scorpius!"

"You're really horrible at this nickname thing, aren't you?"

"How about Scorp? I think it's the best you can get, 'cause you don't really have a nicknamable name."

"Alright."

Gloria glanced out of the large window and noticed it was sunset. "We should change. I'm going to get my robes out of the other compartment-"

"Oh, so you were sitting somewhere else before?" Scorpius questioned. Of course. She probably had a roomful of friends awaiting her. She'd get back, talk to her mates about the weird blonde kid she'd met, then she'd eventually forget all about him-

"Yeah. They were boring, though. I like you better." She got up, stretched, and slipped out the door. "I'll be back in a moment!"

Blushing faintly, Scorpius slid his new Hogwarts robes from his trunk, while thinking of what to draw for his mother. He briefly considered drawing Gloria in a fierce duel with an irate squirrel-demon, but decided against it. He wouldn't be able to do her justice.

**Reviews, sirs and madams? **

**And I'm still looking for a beta. One from the UK would be especially helpful-I'm worried I'll make a silly little American cultural mistake, especially with the dialogue. I can't just watch Doctor Who and Misfits for reference all the time, you know. **

**-t.p.y.s.k.  
**


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